


A Visceral Coming To

by beck_no_othy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Archivist Sasha James, Elias/a hole in the dirt :), End of the World, Gen, Minor Character Death, fun fact! all chapter titles are lines from the chapter!, its so indulgent, most of the characters don't show up in the first chapter sorry for catfishing, this is just my god complex and sasha kinnery combining, yes i named this fic after a wilbur soot lyric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beck_no_othy/pseuds/beck_no_othy
Summary: Sasha James is the head archivist. Sasha James is the Archivist. Sasha James is the Archive. Sasha James sits on the throne of a world she made, and smiles.The people she left behind try to pick up the pieces.A hypothetical Archivist!Sasha au, set during Season 1, and in a world where there's no time at all.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Sasha James, Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	A Visceral Coming To

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Theo, for helping me with this! We've talked at length on how if Sasha were the Archivist, the series would be shorter, not because she'd kill Elias, but because she'd end the world herself!
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS:  
> Crime(minor)  
> Sexism in both the work place and academia as a whole(mentioned)  
> Manipulation  
> Brief descriptions of adrenaline fueled mania  
> God complex(mentioned)  
> The Eyepocalypse

This was illegal. No doubt in her mind, what Sasha was doing was super illegal. The worst part was that it would be so easy to catch her in the act. Unlike illegally accessing restricted data, which she was smart enough to do stealthily, you could get a goddamn picture of her sneaking into the Magnus Institute in the middle of the night. She’d already made the plan, taking advantage of how the Institute didn’t have security cameras. She’d have to bring that up with Elias afterwards. Play the part of a concerned employee and all that.

The back door was always unlocked. Probably not the smartest idea, but Rosie said something about fire hazards when she brought it up, so whatever. Sasha slipped in when she made sure no one, not even a “hidden” security camera, was looking. She closed the door as soft as she could. Sasha stared back at an empty institute. She knew it was empty, she’d stayed late that evening to make sure. Just her and a spooky old building. She made her way upstairs.

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The man who had the nerve to call himself Elias Bouchard woke in a cold sweat. Something was wrong. He Saw into his office, and he Saw the Archivist rifling through his desk. Damn him for choosing her, as her desire to Know rivaled his. He wouldn’t make it in time to stop her, but he still scrambled to put on at least a coat. As he stepped outside, he Watched in horror and almost sick delight when his efforts became futile.

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Sasha was practically ripping her boss’s desk apart at this point. She felt in her bones that Elias was planning something, and she was going to be a part of it. Fuck that. She didn’t trudge through years in Artefact Storage, blatant workplace misogyny, and whatever the fuck was going on with the worms to be a cog in his machine. And after Gertrude Robinsons mysterious disappearance and her hasty promotion- No. She wouldn’t let her paranoia get the best of her. After she’s torn through old records, letters, and whatever else a normal boss would have in their desk drawers, she started feeling around for a secret compartment. Was it stupid? Yes. Was it wasting the small window of time she had? Absolutely. But still she searched. Sasha ran her fingers on the underside of the desk...

There. A slight irregularity in the wood, on the underside of the desk. Sasha got a fingernail in and started to attempt at prying it open. Long story short, that didn’t work. It took a fair bit of testing, but it finally opened. A few loose papers drifted to the dark ground beneath her. She grabbed the first one and shone her torch on it.

“The statement of Hazel Rutter, regarding a fire in her childhood home. Original statement given…” Her eyes drifted further down, and she turned the page. “Statement of Jonah Magnus, regarding Sasha James, The Archivist.” Sasha stared at the page in confusion, and as she read further, dawning horror. The statement had been some sick manifesto, half written, about Elias, no, Jonah Magnus’ plan to end the world with him at its center, as the King of a ruined world. “What the fuck?”

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Jonah Magnus Stood in an empty London street as he Saw the Archivist, his Archive, reading the statement. He looked up, but there was nothing but dark sky, clouds obscuring and chance of stars. Of course. She wasn’t ready. The ritual can’t be completed, of course! He Watched Sasha leave the institute, figuring he could confront her after a good night's sleep, not unlike how he handled Gertrude. The man whose body was never his laughed alone in that dimly lit London street, before turning home, laughing all the way.

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Sasha ran home. There was nowhere else to go, after what she learned. She slammed the papers on her kitchen counter, half out of fury, half out of the need to be hasty. She needed to finish this by the morning, and she really wanted to sleep, at least a little. She pulled out a red pen from a novelty mug, and started crossing out things. 

You see, reader, As the Archivist ran to her flat, she realized something. If Sasha James was fated to end the world or die trying not to, why shouldn’t she do it for herself?

Sasha James scratched out and rewrote with a mania she’s never known. Years of pent up rage, combined with the years of wrongs that led her to being a catalogue of fear, she had no fear herself as she rewrote the statement. If Sasha was going to end the world, it would be on her terms. As she wrote the script for the grand finale, she felt a searing in her blood, old as the concept of academia itself. And Sasha realized she would, in fact, be ending the world that night. Not on the terms of an old white man, but of terms all her own. She wasn’t going to be a puppet, pulled along for the success of another pretentious prick who thought himself God. She would take her seat at the end of the world, as King. Not for fun, or for a noble purpose, no. 

Sasha James opened the door for reparations. Years of being shoved aside, doubted, mocked for her voice and ideas. Now, she would See it all. Now, her eyes opened for the first time, and the world caved in on itself.


End file.
